“And we can’t just disappear and leave Nefah to face the overseer alone.  He sounds dangerous.  Don’t you want to find out more about this illness?” argued K.T.

“All right already!  The tombs are awesome and I am interested in this illness.  I wish we knew what kinds of tools and technologies they have for medicine,” Travis whispered.  “And I’d like to see this powerful overseer dude for myself.”

K.T. began to observe her surroundings with a detective’s eye.  Nefah walked directly behind the overseer’s servant and was visibly trembling.  People were everywhere around them, working furiously to complete the tomb.  Near a muddy canal that reached eastward to the Nile were hundreds of small canopies that served as protection for the artisans who fashioned all the beautiful objects that one day would end up in museums.  Thousands of small tents dotted the plain to the south of the canal.  Trenches and privies lined the edge of the canal farthest from the tomb.  A southerly breeze picked up the stench from the encampment, causing K.T. to wrinkle her nose as Travis gasped and Connie coughed.

“Talk about your need for an Air Quality Control Board!” Travis joked.

Their conversation was cut short as they arrived at the overseer’s office.  A heavyset, older man holding a long, thin staff sat at a long table upon a platform.  Scrolls with drawings littered the table and the floor.  Servants stood in line waiting to ask him questions.  He answered them swiftly and then sent them off at a run.  Now he looked up at the three travelers.

“Come in, guests from afar, come in.  We have heard through the incessant gossip of that mud hole, Kaefa, that a young girl had invited foreigners into our midst.  Surely, you know the dangers of this illness that affects our workers more each day, yet you brave a visit.  Tell me, what is the purpose of your journey?” the overseer’s oily voice sizzled through the hot air like grease on a griddle.

Before Travis and Connie could stop her, K.T. replied, “We think we can be of service in curing your people of this illness.  May we offer the wisdom of our faraway land, please sir?”

“Get ready to go in case he blows his top at that last idea,” mumbled K.T. to her friends.  They took out their boxtoks and keyed in their home coordinates.